A Bottle of Wine
by Boston Manor
Summary: Well, some reviewers suggested a sequel to 'Run', so here it is! Thanks for the encouragement - and enjoy. Oh, and please, R&R.


I've never been asked to do a sequel before! Wow! Thanks for all the great reviews. Hopefully this will live up to your expectations. Let me know either way… You probably need to read 'RUN' first to make sense of this.

**Disclaimer: All characters are owned by ACD**

**A BOTTLE OF WINE**

"So now do you see why people refer to it as the 'evil' of drink?" I asked. Holmes opened his bloodshot eyes and tried to fix his gaze on me. I was under the distinct impression he was trying to work out which of the multiple visions of me was the real one. A non-determinate grunt was all the thanks I was to have for my trouble.

"Great heavens, man, in front of Mrs Hudson as well! What would have happened…?"

At this he rallied somewhat. He sat more upright, and after some rather obvious deliberation decided that the version of me he was to address was the one some six inches to the left of me, and about a foot above my head.

"You could have warned me."

"It was the bottle **you** brought home last evening, Holmes. The one, remember, that resulted in our dash across London this morning."

"It was your …"

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed. "Don't you dare try that one on me! It was **you**, Holmes, who brought that wine home last night. It was **you** who left it on the table. What was I supposed to think? You knew our plans for the picnic."

Holmes was clearly having some difficulty concentrating. "Mycroft ... he was the one who said … um …"

I was not to be deflected. It was, after all, quite rare that I had the floor to myself, safe in the knowledge that I would not be put down at any moment by some unnecessarily acerbic comment from my friend. However, I also quickly decided that, however attractive the opportunity, it was probably in everyone's best interest that I play the concerned doctor.

"Yesterday evening, Holmes, you had one glass of the Gales Country Special. It took almost a full twelve hours for its potent effects to wear off. And then you have the … stupidity to have another glass this morning."

"You should have – could have stopped me."

"For all my faults, Holmes, and you have pointed them out to me many times, I am not given to patronising an adult who should be well able to think for himself. You have proved yourself capable of rational thought time and again. And told me to my face. So this time, I chose to follow your advice. And leave you to it."

Holmes was finally beaten. He looked into my face – my real one, this time, obviously the effects were wearing off somewhat – and tried a smile.

"It was probably the exercise that cleared my head this morning. I need some more, and all will be well."

"Our exercise this morning," I reminded him, "was due to the fact that it was only as we hailed a cab that you found you had left your purse behind at 221B. And we didn't have time to go back to collect it – nor mine, and I only left that behind because I was so distracted with getting you out of the house. We were, if you recall, already somewhat late."

The question was asked, out of the blue. Real concern was on his face. "I recall … Mrs Hudson … dear heavens, please don't tell me that she …"

At least I was able to put his mind at rest on that account. "I kept her from the wine. Do you not remember? As I was pouring her glass – the dog? Ran past and knocked her glass out of my hand?"

He thought for a moment or two. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, I do recall now, although also some rather inventive acrobatics. That dog was a good few yards away."

"But she was looking at the swans on the Serpentine. Not at me pouring the glass. Nor the dog. As it was, she said afterwards that just the aroma from the bottle made her 'heady'."

"So, that is well, then." He tried to change the subject, but I was having none of it. "No, not really, Holmes. There still remains the small matter of …"

However my next words were not to be delivered, since Inspector Gregson entered at that point. "Good day, Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson."

Holmes visibly brightened. "Ah! Grodgson. Gredgson. Gregson. Have you found her?"

Gregson ignored the impolite welcome. "Yes sir, it was exactly as you said. The Duchess was about to catch the boat train from Charing Cross, but we were able to intercept her. A marvellous piece of detection, if I may say so, and one which the Yard will be forever in your debt."

"Yes, it would have been embarrassing for you had she been able to make away with the jewels. Her fingernails – as I said?"

"Yes, sir, the give-away – quite dirty and bitten, quite unlike the clothing and manners that otherwise were so perfect a deception."

"Too many sorry months spent digging the tunnel into the vault in her alias as Nancy Monroe," smiled my friend. It was amazing. The exercise of his intellect had swept away any trace of intoxication. Gregson laughed in return. "As you rightly surmised, sir, it was the small things which she overlooked."

"Playing the Duchess is many a young lady's dream," replied Holmes. "But to do it well – few can be so thorough as to pass it off successfully."

"Well, as I said, thank you sir, Mr Holmes," finished Gregson, and turned to leave.

"I wonder ..." started Holmes, a pleading look on his face.

Gregson turned to him. "Now sir, let's be having none of that. We are forever grateful to you, sir, even if we don't show it sometimes. But the law is the law. It's gone down in the book under an assumed name, so your reputation is safe. But the fact of the matter is that swimming naked in the Serpentine is a criminal offence. One night should do it. Doctor, if you please?"

With that we left the cell, and the door closed behind us. The key turned in the lock, and I saw Holmes looking forlornly at me as I left for a good night's sleep in Baker Street. I'd collect him in the morning. All would be well – well, apart from two things. First, poor Mrs Hudson still recovering from the shock of my friend's antics in the lake. And second, wondering what I would find here tomorrow once Gregson and his colleagues had finished off the bottle which I had now left with them, with my best wishes for their kindness in keeping Holmes' name out of the press.


End file.
